ELARA'S POV.
I sat on the chair, hands clasped against my thighs. My legs were crossed and my lips were pressed tightly as I brooded over the thought of my condition.
A therapist was going to cost a lot. If I was going to push on, I needed to get a job as fast as I could.
"Miss Vance," doctor Philip called, stretching the brochure forward. "In case you need more information.
I snatched the brochure from him and flipped through the first page. Then, I gazed at the bottom page, swallowing a gasp as I spotted a name that was too good to be true.
"Brie Orwell Valerie!" I said aloud.
He nodded briskly and picked up his pen. "Yeah, she's the best therapist for your kind of condition. She'll definitely fish out what seems to be the problem,"
"You seem pretty optimistic about this," I replied with a faint tone.
"I am. This has to work," he curved his lips.
